Chapter 502: Prison
[TL: Asuka]
[PR: Ash]
Mayena, at least to Sodden and Brugge, was the stop between those two cities and Teria’s second biggest city—Maribor. Despite that, Mayena was a lot smaller than Vizima, Ellander, and Cintra. There was a single path in the city, with alleyways branching out all around it, leading to the civilian area. Behind those alleyways were the walls and turrets overseeing the wilderness.
Thanks to its geography, Mayena’s trading scene was quite lively. Shops lined the streets, selling a hundred different kinds of rchandise. Flowers, perfu, necessities, and more. Sellers and rchants happily waved at the onlookers, hoping to gain so sales.
Roy walked around, but there was no sign of Geralt. And so, he went to the hub of information: the inn.
Most inns would be quiet in the morning, but the Slug Inn—the biggest inn in the city center—was rry and rowdy. Dim light swayed, the scent of alcohol filled the air, and the sprightly tune of a lute played out for the patrons.
Roy sat in front of the counter and listened for a while. Drunk patrons wriggled and writhed on the dance floor, their beer bellies swaying rigorously. Despite their best attempts, these people could only manage sothing that resembled wriggling caterpillars, trying to dance, only to have their feet go in different directions all at once.
So of the n were holding waitresses in their arms, hiding in the corners of the inn and cracking jokes. The ladies would let out a chuckle and smack the n’s hairy chests and arms. So n leaned on the windowsill, arms around each other’s shoulders. They looked like death row inmates having their last drink, though they were just dozing off, and their drool fell onto the street outside.
The round tables of the inn were occupied by its many custors. Tan, brooding n—who spoke in an obviously Maribor accent—were complaining about the inflation that had happened lately. Three tis in a month! That was what they said. They weren’t making enough to even put food on the table, and for that, they blad the refugees, whom they claid to be eating for free.
Another pot-bellied man who obviously ca from Cintra bragged about his glorious past to his friend. He was obviously drunk, and he talked about how he had carriages, a beautiful wife, and a healthy son. But all of that was taken from him after the war. Nilfgaard took away his estates, and he was alone. The coins he had with him were given freely to the inns of Mayena. Once he spent his last coin, the soldiers would kick him out of the city, and he would have to live with the refugees like he was one of them, subsisting off of crude food and disgusting water.
A burly Sodden man was downing mugs of dwarven liquor. His face was red, and his eyes were filled with fury. Roy thought he might start a fight at any mont. He cursed the Nilfgaardian troops, claiming that if he had joined the Battle of Sodden Hill, he would’ve kicked those soldiers back to the south and reclaid Cintra and married the missing princess. Unfortunately, he claid, he was sleeping during the day of the war. When he woke up, most of Cintra had fallen. The King of Sodden had died, and his nephew—the king of Teria—would annex Sodden into his kingdom. The man complained further, this ti about Foltest. He blad the king for acting too slowly, wondering why he still hadn’t sent any soldiers to attack Sodden.
***
The inn was filled with people from the northern kingdoms, but they shared the sa fate: displacent by war. They were depressed, angry, enraged, and sad, and the inn provided a place for them to vent their feelings.
The overly muscular bouncers who stood at the entrance made sure no one caused any trouble, and all it took was a look from them.
***
The bartender looked at the custor sitting before the counter. He was slender and decked out in leather armor and a pair of sunglasses. Calm, collected, and as handso as the boy toys kept by the aristocrats. The custor looked deadpan, and the bartender noticed the muscles in his arms. Lean, powerful, and dangerous. This is no ordinary man. “What would it be, guvnor?” he asked again.
“Cherry wine, please,” the lad said. He had a nice voice.
The bartender wiped his hands on his apron and poured the pink cherry wine into a big mug. Then he placed the mug before the witcher, waiting for him to ask a question.
“Anything morable happened lately?”
“You a rc? Trying to get a job?” The bartender cleaned the bottles on the rack. “Ca to the right place. They’re trying to rebuild Sodden after the war, and the rchants are hauling supplies around. They’re looking for bodyguards. If you’d like, I can hook you up with soone.”
Roy stared at the bartender quietly.
“Oh, pardon . There are a lot of things happening around the world every day, especially Mayena. Sodden ain’t that far away from us, as you know, and it’s the center of all the commotion. Heard all the kings of the north—Foltest, Demavend, Henselt, and the lot—are going to see an emissary from the south soon. That eting is going to decide the future of this war.” The bartender cleared his throat and refilled Roy’s mug.
“The refugees are going to balloon in numbers, but we can’t take in any more of them. We’ve requested financial aid from the king multiple tis. Two days ago, a female corpse was found in an alleyway. She was the daughter of a local rchant, allegedly killed by Sodden immigrants. The rchants’ guild are going to pressure the head of security and find out who the killer is. They wish to put them to death.”
The bartender stopped talking, and he stared at the witcher, requesting more money.
“Another mug, please.” Roy paid him three crowns and ten coppers.
Happily, the bartender tucked the crowns into his apron’s pocket, and he filled Roy’s mug again. “A week ago, a rchant from Outer Rivia abducted Ains, the honorary ambassador. And, perhaps he was very brave or very stupid, but he ca back. The soldiers captured him. Took him to the dungeons for interrogation.”
Outer Rivia was the area between Lyria and Rivia and the east side of Sodden.
“Curiously, the rchant had with him a powerful rcenary. A white-haired mutant. He too was captured.”
“A white-haired mutant?” Roy’s heart skipped a beat. I don’t think there are any other witchers with white hair out there except for Geralt. “About six foot two, lean, and had two swords with him?”
The bartender smiled.
“Another.”
The bartender shook his head and raised five fingers. Roy pushed the stool back and stood up, blocking the bodyguards’ line of sight, then he quickly made a Sign. Axii rooted itself in the bartender’s mind, and he answered Roy’s question.
“That mutant is Geralt of Rivia. Obviously ca from the sa place as the rchant. Must’ve hired him to kidnap the honorary ambassador together. They had nothing to prove their innocence, so they made up a story. Said Ainz was lted. They are accused of kidnapping. So even said they ca from the fallen Cintra. Accused them of being Nilfgaard’s spies. Serious cri, if you ask . Ainz is one of the food suppliers of this fortress. He’s a big reason a lot of the refugees have sothing to eat. Now that he’s gone, prices are about to inflate again. As if the people aren’t having it hard enough. The head of security is livid, and he locked them up in the dungeon. It’s right under the tallest tower on the north side of the city.”
Gods, Geralt. Why’d you run into this ss? Couldn’t you focus on finding Ciri? Roy drank so of his wine. You’re a witcher. Why’d you let the soldiers catch you? You could’ve fought back. Or just Axiied them. He looked at the bartender. “How can I get into the dungeon?”
The bartender paused for a mont, and his eyes shone. “Money makes the world go round.”
***
A torch that slled like charred wood was stabbed into the sconce on the cragged wall, and its light shone on two silhouettes, their shadows dancing on the ground.
The white-haired witcher stirred and woke from his ditation. The pain coming from his body had subsided, and he wiped his face, looking around. The prison opposite his housed two unkempt criminals, breathing quietly. Lying beside Geralt was a ball of flesh covered in tattered robes, blood, and whip marks.
That ball of flesh used to be a pudgy, kindly rchant. It had been but a week since they were sentenced to jail, but already the rchant was on the verge of breaking down. “Still hanging in there, Yurga?” Geralt patted the rchant’s back.
Yurga grunted and woke up. “Ow, my back. Are we still in the dungeon, Geralt?” Yurga rubbed his eyes with his dirt-covered hands. He thought that all this darkness was just a hallucination.
“Yeah, and we’re going to stay here until kingdom co if no one cos to save us. That, or we’ll be burned at the stake,” said Geralt calmly.
“Dammit!” Yurga pushed himself up and leaned on the cold, wet wall. His face was wet, and frustration welled in his beady eyes. “Sorry, Geralt. I dragged you into this. You saved my life, but instead of paying you for your work, I dragged you into this whole ss. There’s no way we can hand Ainz back to them. We’re going to rot in this place.” Yurga held his pale, bloated face and sobbed. Then he held his head and squealed like a pig. “I’ll never see Goldencheeks again. She’s still young. Not even twenty-five, and now she’s going to be a widow! No… no, she might take my wealth and remarry. By the gods, our sons! Nadbor and Sulik are still young, and they’re going to be facing an abusive stepfather in my absence. What should I do?”
Geralt shook his head. How is it possible for soone to have so many emotions that they have to let it out every single day? “Yurga, save your breath.” The White Wolf spat, a tallic taste spreading in his mouth. “It’s going to hurt a lot more if you can’t scream when you get whipped.”
The steel door of the dungeon’s entrance opened by an inch, allowing so light to pour into the darkness. The opening of the door was nothing less than the demon’s summons, and Yurga shivered. “They’re here again. Freya, litele, Lebioda, Eternal Fire, gods, help ! Please let be invincible just this once!”
Sounds of light footsteps closed in, and the pair held their breaths. However, there were no barks of the guards, nor was there any opening of the door. Instead, a chuckle was heard ringing in the air. The light of the torch shone on a familiar figure.
“Roy?” Geralt looked at his grinning friend, and he heaved a long sigh of relief. “How’d you get in here?”
“I have my ways. But I can’t stay for long. Fifteen minutes, that’s it.”
“I knew it.” The White Wolf held the steel bars, and sothing within him stirred. “You knew I’d get in trouble, so you ca to save .”
“If that’s the angle you want to take, fine by .” Roy looked at Geralt. He was filthy, slled like a nekker, and his skin was covered in scabs and scars. Even his hair lost its usual sheen. He chided, “I can’t believe you’d let them capture you without putting up a fight. What were you thinking?”
“You know this man, Geralt?” Yurga quickly squeezed his face against the steel bars, and it almost distorted his face, parting his brows apart. Then the fat rchant grinned sycophantically at Roy. “Can you help us out of here?”
“Slow down, friend. This is Roy, my companion.” Geralt looked at Roy. “You know that Destiny hasn’t been kind to . She loves to put through trials, and this is but one of them. I must get through this trial if I wish to find Ciri. Any form of cheating or giving up is going to end with punishnt.”
Roy shook his head in disdain. He then turned his gaze to the fat rchant, and he kept his argunts to himself. This… pudgy rchant was more than t the eye. Roy knew him. He was an important figure in Geralt’s search for Ciri. Roy thought that Geralt would never et this man with the war breaking out early. The butterfly effect might have changed things, but instead, their eting happened in a different way.
Geralt had a point. Destiny, or to be exact, the Law of Surprise, made sure that Geralt would cross paths with Yurga no matter what. “I’m going to bust you out, but first, I need to know the whole story. What happened?”
***
“Let explain, Roy.” Yurga straightened out his tattered collar. “I was there for the whole thing.”
“Make it quick, Yurga.”
“One week ago, Mayena’s food supplier and honorary ambassador, Ainz, t with in the northern woods for a negotiation. He was going to purchase the supplies Rivia and Sodden needed, while I would use my connections in Rivia to get him the food he needed.”
A negotiation in the woods? That was surprising, but Roy let the man talk.
“Negotiations broke down right away. Ainz wanted to purchase moldy grain and infested flour. If we used that to make bread, it would kill whoever ate it. I didn’t even have to guess who would be the ones eating it. The refugees are already poor enough. What Ainz had in mind for them was far more than cruelty.”
Oh, he was going to buy rotten food for the refugees?
“The deal could make a mountain of coins, but I refused. I would not sell out my conscience for wealth.” Yurga tensed up, his eyes filled with justice, though his chubby face was trembling in an amusing way.
Roy looked at Geralt, and the White Wolf nodded. He had verified this with Axii.
Didn’t expect that from this guy. Roy had another question. But Ainz was Mayena’s honorary ambassador. There’s no reason for him to do sothing that evil.
“It was on the return trip that all hell broke loose. We were passing through the woods when a blinding flash of red light appeared. It felt like a thousand red candles were lit up at the sa ti, and their light surrounded the forest.” The rchant had a weird look in his eyes. There was fear… and longing. “That was a red sun. And it shone magnificently.”
And then Roy had a weird look on his face.
“Out of curiosity, I, Brofi, Ainz, and Mateo went into the red light. We searched around for five minutes, but there was nothing to be found. The light seed to appear out of nowhere. And so we tried to leave.” He paused, staring at the corridor for a while, and then an eerie light glinted in his eyes. He clicked his tongue at the sleeping inmates across them, and he raised his voice. “But Ainz disappeared!”
“He disappeared?”
“Like a lting candle. He was lit by a red fire, burning him up from the inside.”
Is that supposed to be a horror story? Roy looked at Geralt, but the White Wolf nodded.
“I had no idea where the fire ca from. It burned and burned, but there was no smoke coming from Ainz. He managed to let out a scream, and then he was burned to cinders and disappeared into thin air. Even his clothes were turned to ash. Not a single strand of his hair was left.”
Roy’s face darkened. He thought this was just a simple missing persons case. He could’ve just used his Witcher Senses to deal with it, but now he knew things were not that simple. This is big. This is nothing I’ve heard before. Red light covering the whole woods and sothing like a self-combustion. It takes a lot of heat just to burn soone down to ash. Not even the dragons in Skyrim can do that. I don’t think most of the sorcerers in this world can either.
Roy tried to search his mory for any similar case, but there was nothing. This was even more unbelievable than Flynn absorbing the dragon’s soul. The young witcher turned to Geralt. “Yurga could have been high on sothing. Alcohol, or maybe the drugs the aristocrats love so much. Could’ve been a hallucination.”
“I checked him, but there were no traces of any substance in his body.”
“So you think he’s telling the truth?”
“Yes,” Geralt said. “Though I do not know why that happened.”
“Roy, I don’t mind you calling ugly or conservative, but do not question my integrity. Businesses are built on that.”
“Shut it. Finish the story.”
“Brofi, Mateo, and I were shaken. Worried that we might be next, we scrambled out of the woods. I was too fat, see, and the rascals left behind. I was tired, scared, and my muscles felt like they would kill . When I was passing by a log over a chasm—that was the path I had to take to co back—I slipped and almost fell.” The mory of that filled Yurga’s eyes with pain. “I’m over two hundred pounds heavy, and I was hanging on nothing but a log, a chasm waiting for beneath. I was like a fish out of water, struggling to breathe. Every mont of that was torture.”
“And Geralt passed by, so he saved you,” Roy guessed.
“Exactly. I was dying, so I promised I’d do anything for him. Then Geralt saved .” Yurga smiled at the White Wolf and added, “I know what witchers want, and I’d love for any of my sons to be taken under his wing. It’s a chaotic world. Wars happen all the ti. If he becos a witcher, he can probably live longer and better than his old man.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Roy. It was the first ti he’d seen soone willing to give their children to witchers.
“But the White Wolf thinks that’s not in line with the Law of Surprise. When he saved , he did talk about using that Law to get his reward, but there’s no way I’d have another child I don’t know. When I went back ho last ti, Goldencheeks wasn’t pregnant, and she wouldn’t cheat on ,” said the rchant.
Roy smiled. “Let’s talk about business.”
“I saved him and told him who I really am,” said Geralt. “I went to the woods with him, but the light was already gone, yet my dallion shivered.” Geralt’s eyes shone. “Remnants of so sort of energy lingered there.”
“Tell more about the forest. The exact location.” A while later, Roy got what he wanted.
“I got saved, but I was nervous. Very nervous, so I went back to the city with Geralt to co up with a way to deal with it. An honorary ambassador just died to supernatural causes. We’d be in trouble if we didn’t co up with a good plan, but the mont we got to the city, a bunch of soldiers surrounded us.”
“Ainz must’ve told his servant what to do if sothing were to happen to him, and that bastard stirred up this whole ss. Too many people saw going out of the city with him.” Yurga sighed bitterly. “The disappearance of an ambassador is a scandal, and soone must take responsibility for it. We tried to explain ourselves, but the head of security thought we abducted Ainz, so he sentenced us to prison.”
“I can understand why he did it,” Roy said. “Red lights and mysterious flas that turn people to cinders in monts? That’s unheard of. Not to ntion the light is long gone, leaving you with no evidence to prove your innocence. Anyone would think you’re a criminal. A criminal who’d already killed their hostage and burned his remains.” There was no way anyone could find Ainz after his body was burned to cinders.
“We need an opening,” Roy said. “Your servant, Brofi, can prove that the incident was real. He can prove that Ainz did die under those circumstances.”
“That git is hiding gods know where. The soldiers didn’t catch him.” Yurga looked indignant but also glad. “Besides, he’s working for . Even if he shows up, the soldiers are going to think he’s our accomplice.”
“What about Mateo, then?”
“Missing. The soldiers have no idea where he is, and he was… off to begin with. Looked like he had a breakdown. Wouldn’t stop screaming as he ran away,” said the rchant.
“Tell what they look like. I’ll search for them,” said Roy. “Ainz’s servant should lend so credibility to your story should he show up.”
***
“No, it won’t change a thing.” Geralt shook his head. “Don’t you get it? The head of security needs to appease the public, especially the refugees. The word of so servants and a rchant would no doubt look like desperate attempts to get out of jail. No one will believe us.”
“You’re dumping a real problem on right now.” Roy mused for a mont. “So aside from Mateo, we need soone reputable to help you guys. To prove that the light that burned Ainz down did exist.”
Soone who lives in the woods. Soone reputable. And Roy had an idea.
***
Geralt and Yurga noticed Roy muttering sothing and fell silent.
Then soone at the gate’s staircase shouted, “Your ti’s up, kid!”
“A mont, please!” Roy replied, then he told Geralt, “I think I have an idea to get you out of here. Just wait for . But one question before I leave. Why’d the light only burn Ainz down after he touched it? Why didn’t it burn you, Mateo, or Brofi?”
“That I do not know.” Yurga shook his head. “But it’s not like nothing has changed. I think sothing inside is different.”
“How so?” Roy cocked his eyebrow. Aside from minor injuries, Observe showed nothing special about him.
“It’s hard to explain, but my body feels so much lighter than before. It’s like I’ve put down sothing that’s been weighing down on .”
“Fine. Okay, so here are the leads I have. Red light in the forest, a burned ambassador, and two escaped servants.” Roy waved his arm and tossed Gwyhyr into the prison. “Keep this hidden. Geralt. If you guys run into sothing you can’t handle while I’m out investigating, tap the sword three tis. I’ll bust you out right away. Your safety cos first. If danger arrives, to hell with the law.”
He tossed two Potions of Minor Healing to Yurga. His back was filled with scabs, and he looked listless. Obviously, he had gone through a lot of torture, and Roy would not let him die just like that. “If the pain gets too unbearable, down a bottle of this.”
The rchant tucked the potion away carefully. He’d always been interested in witcher potions.
“Take care, you two. I have a feeling good news is coming.” And Roy smiled at Geralt. “And perhaps we might see a surprise.”
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